Exhibitionist
by Eternitys End
Summary: Youji POV. Attention is a means of distraction. Watch me and I won't have to watch myself.


_Disclaimer:  I do not own Weiss Kreuz.  Project Weiss and others do.  _

_A/N:  This is a first person one-shot.  Reviews are greatly appreciated. _

**Exhibitionist**

Their eyes are on me.

Always, I'm aware of their fascination.

All my life I've been watched.  Peaking, they sate their curiosity.  Viewing, they eat it up, everything I do.  As a private investigator, I can truly appreciate the extent of their surveillance.  

What am I doing?  Why am I doing it?  What will I do next?  I can feel the question in their gaze.  They won't look away until they know the answers.  

My body.  My mind.  My personality.  Me. 

Charisma.  

It's natural: a gift.

They gravitate towards me like a moth to the flame. They don't know why they come, but they're drawn.

What they don't know is how much the flame feeds off their attentions.  The fire burns stronger, brighter, and more will come.  Always, it's growing.

The flame only burns if you get too close.  They should just watch.  Keep your distance and I won't singe your wings.  I almost feel bad: they never learn.  As one falls, smoldering, dropping away from me, another takes its place, hoping to get in.  It's stupid, but they can't help themselves.  I draw them in.

They're so drawn.  So why, why is it?  He doesn't look my way.  He's not caught like them.  And is that why I want him so much?  The one thing I can't have, I want the most?  

That one reverse gaze, the crystal that sees through you.  I want to catch it on me.  I want to feel his interest.  I want it.  But I don't have it.  

  
He's indifferent.  He looks at me with cold, unfeeling eyes.  I've caught only one emotion in them.  Distaste.  

I don't want that.  I want his interest.  

Disinterested.  He's the first.  Is that why I want him so bad?

Amethyst is meant to sparkle.  I put the glitter back into so many eyes.  The glitter of calm, the glitter of happiness, the glitter of desire:  I've enriched.  Even if they leave hurt, it's a hurt that heals.  They're better off in the end.  

Such a rich jewel is not meant to sparkle with hatred, with anger.  I want him looking at me with interest.  I want that gaze to soften, just once.  Then I'll be satisfied.  I'll be successful.

But he glares.  He glowers.  I should just give up.

But I want him watching me.  So much.

I want him.

I love women.  They watch me.  Their diligent ministrations are healing, their attentions relax me.  They're always there, even at my worst.  They'll always watch me.

I love dancing.  Everyone will watch me.  I'll form a crowd faster than a celebrity.  I can show off.  I have grace.  I have beauty.  I have everything they look for.  When I'm dancing, I am seen.

I love alcohol.  Not so much drinking as being with the drunk.  It's natural for people to lie.  They leave their best image and compliment your own.  Naturally, they try to reciprocate praise.  Intoxicated, they don't care.  Their tongues are loose and you hear what they really have to say about you.  I love it.  Then, with their lowered inhibitions, I hear what they really think about me.  They openly admit how much they watch me.  They openly admit their jealousy.  That's fuel to me. 

How am I so vain?

It's so natural to me.  I'm all too aware of my own attraction.  I love myself.  The focus it provides keeps me from all that I hate about myself.  

And I hate so much.  If everyone else watches me, I don't have to.  If everyone else loves me, I don't have to.  It works.  It keeps me happy.  At least, it keeps me sane.  

So why doesn't he look.

He's not in awe.  He's not beating his little wings to catch at my flame.  

Anything but.  He glances, and turns away.  He's not interested.  He's not caught.  In all honesty, he hates.  He sees all the flaws I've covered and silently points them out.  He notices, and finds what he sees disgusting.  

And he doesn't even laugh.  He doesn't sneer.  He doesn't use it against me.  He sees who I am.  He finds it unappealing.  But he doesn't ruin the illusion I built.  He just glances, and turns away.  

It's so perfect.  He's so perfect.  I want him watching me.  I want him caught like all the others.  I don't want him to make me analyze myself.  

If he could watch me, with full knowledge of my demons…If he could do that and not turn away…I think I'd be sated.  I think I'd be able to look at myself then.  

Either way, he makes me look.  But with him watching, maybe it wouldn't be so lonely, and what I found wouldn't scare me so much.

I don't have to look.  There's nothing to look at.  I just want him to watch me.  I want him to be like all the others.  I'm tired of him singling himself out.  I'm tired of him being so different.  

I'm not scared of myself.  Really, I'm not.

And if I were, I doubt he'd be able to do anything to help.  I wouldn't be any less lonely.  I don't know what I was thinking.

I doubt he'll even look.

But still, I'll work to get his gaze.  I will get it in the end.  And maybe I will take a long, hard look at myself.  And maybe I can change what I don't like.  With him, maybe I can work at it.  I won't be so vain.  I won't be so distasteful.  I won't need their attentions.  I won't need the distraction.  

If I gave it all up, the acting, the seeking, the need for attention, do you think he would look then?  Does it work in reverse?  If I take a look at myself, if I change the things I don't like, then will I catch his gaze?

It's a risk.  A major risk.  If it doesn't work, I may not be able to hide again.  I may be left standing there, alone.  My demons would be there, the only ones watching me.  

It's such a risk.  

But if I change for him, he'd have to watch me.  Right?  It'd only be polite.

It's a risk.  But is he worth it?

Yeah, he is.  

I've never backed down from a challenge.

And I'm not about to start now.

                                                                                              --End Exhibitionist—

_A/N:  Look for the follow up in Aya's point of view:  Voyeur.  And don't forget to review._


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